


Sparring

by lunabee34 (Lorraine)



Series: Through the Rabbit Hole [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorraine/pseuds/lunabee34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sparring session leads to more between Sam and Ronon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparring

Sam stands his ground as Ronon circles him. Ronon was sparring with Teyla earlier and he’s sweaty, a crosshatching of bruises just purpling up on his forearms. Sam has watched Teyla spar with many people. He’s even sparred with her himself, and he’s never seen her as close to unleashed as when she fights with Ronon. They hold back with each other, but not by much. Sam hopes he never finds himself in an actual brawl with either of them.

Ronon moves low to the ground, his calf muscles tensing and relaxing as he shifts his weight. He’s grinning, a cocky little smirk that reminds Sam an awful lot of Dean. Sam thinks he has a better chance of not embarrassing the shit out of himself if he remains on the defensive. So he waits. Sam can see the exact moment Ronon grows impatient; he rolls his eyes and the grin deepens and then Ronon’s lashing out with a fist that just barely grazes Sam’s jaw. Sam gets two quick jabs in to Ronon’s ribs as he ducks away, and Ronon’s breath catching is a satisfying sound.

It’s been a long time since Sam scrapped like this with someone he doesn’t tower over. There’s a different set of challenges to meet—the reach that matches his own, the extra muscle mass and strength. Something fierce and predatory wells up in Sam’s chest. He doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning this round, but he’ll give Ronon a run for his money. Leave behind a mark or two for Ronon to see and feel later, and with that thought, competition isn’t all that heats Sam’s blood. 

Ronon rushes him again and then the fight is on in earnest. Sam lasts longer than he expects, but eventually he ends up flat on his back, Ronon straddling his hips, his damp skin rubbing against Sam’s belly where his shirt has rucked up. Sam’s still gripping Ronon’s bicep hard enough to bruise and the moment drags out a little longer than it should. Ronon grins down at him like he knows what Sam’s thinking and he’s just waiting for Sam to make a move. Maybe he is. Finally he hefts Sam up, their palms sliding together slickly on the release, and Sam watches him walk away until he disappears around a bend in the corridor.

At dinner that night, Ronon eats with his team in the far corner of the mess. From where he sits, Sam can see the bruise he left on Ronon’s arm, the perfect imprint of his fingers around that curve of muscle. He can’t stop looking. Sam wants to fit his fingers to those marks again and press in just so, until Ronon’s breath hitches, until his pupils darken and he trembles underneath Sam’s hands. Sam’s hot all over just thinking about it. He shifts in his seat and tries to get his overactive imagination under control. 

“Dude,” Dean says and nicks his jello. “Teyla will kick your ass if she catches you staring like that.” Dean spoons more jello into his mouth than Sam thinks is humanly possible and then swallows it down with a truly disgusting squelching noise. “I don’t blame you for checking her out, Sammy. That is one fine looking woman. But you got no chance with her, little brother. She flat out rejected me and I laid the Winchester charm on her.”

“Dean, you laid your hand on her ass.”

Dean shrugs. “Whatever. Anyway, I’ll keep it in my pants for the rest of my life if she’s interested in you over me.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Bye, Dean. Try not to talk while I’m gone. Wouldn’t want to start an intergalactic incident with that mouth of yours.” 

Sam buses his tray and heads back to their quarters. He stares at the walls restlessly for a while and then he slips his running shoes on and jogs laps around the west pier until his legs burn. When he’s done, Sam sprawls out on the deck and stargazes, the chill of the metal seeping through his clothes and down into his bones. Ronon is quiet, but Sam hears him anyway; he suspects this is because Ronon wants him to.

“Hey,” Ronon says and sits down beside him.

“Hey,” Sam says.

After a long moment of silence, Ronon turns to Sam and says, “Earth people are stupid.”

Sam snorts. “You’ll get no arguments from me on that one.”

“You want me,” Ronon says. “I knew it when we were sparring and I knew it at dinner when you couldn’t stop staring. And what did you do about it? Nothing. Stupid.” He shakes his head.

“What should I have done about it?” Sam says quietly.

“This.” Ronon kisses like he fights, relentless and overwhelming. His beard scrapes Sam’s cheeks, along his jaw, and Sam shudders when Ronon’s hand twists into his hair and yanks hard. “C’mon,” Ronon says. “You need a shower.”

Ronon’s shower is too small for them both but they manage, water slopping out all over the floor. Sam puts his mouth on Ronon’s bruise, sucks up the blood around the mark, worries it with his teeth until Ronon slams him back against the tile. Ronon grips both their cocks with a soap slippery hand and strokes until Sam comes in a hot arc over Ronon’s belly. Sam bends awkwardly, half his body hanging out the shower door, and takes the head of Ronon’s cock into his mouth. At that Ronon throws his head back and comes, his fingers digging brutally into Sam’s shoulders.

Later, Sam pins Ronon’s hips to the bed and licks his way down one long, scarred thigh. He spreads Ronon’s legs wide and licks between them, his tongue twisting into Ronon, fucking him there with his mouth and his fingers until Ronon’s asshole is wet and swollen. Ronon growls impatiently and Sam slicks up his cock and eases his way inside.

“Don’t have to be gentle,” Ronon pants out and Sam takes him at his word. He slams into Ronon, again and again, pulling nearly all the way out on each stroke. Ronon is so amazingly tight, and as he comes, the clench of his muscles around Sam’s cock is nearly painful. Sam fucks into him slower after that, pushing languidly into that pulsing heat, and when Sam comes, he bites another mark on Ronon’s shoulder blade. Something for Ronon to see and feel later.

They don’t try to sleep together; the beds are ridiculously small and Sam can’t imagine comfortably sharing that space with anyone, especially not someone as tall as they both are. Ronon kisses him at the door, sweetly and with one hand cupped around the back of Sam’s neck. “Tomorrow?” Ronon says and Sam grins, says yes.

He sneaks back into their quarters, praying he doesn’t wake up Dean, and thanks his lucky stars when Dean’s breathing stays deep and even. Sam is burrowed up under the sheets, nearly asleep, when Dean speaks. 

“Just for the record, Romeo, I know it wasn’t Teyla you were checking out at dinner.” The covers rustle and Dean flips on his bedside lamp. “I’m just glad the Winchesters aren’t batting 0 for 2 in the Pegasus galaxy. We’ve got a reputation to uphold, Sammy.” He whistles. “Holy shit, that’s a hickey. I haven’t had a hickey like that since Leslie Carolton and her sister Maureen . . .”

“Shut up, Dean!” Sam interrupts, pulling the pillow over his face.

“He better be good to you, Sammy, or—Actually, or nothing. Dude can kick my ass six ways to Sunday,” Dean says and then they’re both laughing, Sam feeling content and at ease in a way he hasn’t for a very long time.


End file.
